


Modern Greek Epic

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Fake AH Crew, Non-Graphic Violence, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:54:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a modern Greek Epic I had to write for school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Greek Epic

No one was stopping him. No one _could_ stop him. That didn't mean they weren't trying.

Michael grabbed onto his leather jacket clad shoulders and tried to hold him back, to no avail. "Ryan! C'mon, you'll get yourself killed." Jack pleaded, moving to block the blonde's path. "Geoff, why aren't you helping?" Ray snapped from his position, legs and arms locked as he tried to push Ryan away from the door. He wasn't budging. "I don't feel like being shot today, thank you very much." Geoff grumbled before turning back to the TV.

Ryan pushed through his friends, brow set in a heavy glare. He tugged on his mask and paused at the door. "I'll have him back by tomorrow night."  
::  
When Ryan entered Lindsey's apartment, she was lounging around in her pajamas and cuddling her cat. She yelped when she saw him standing in her doorway, looking like a madman with his SMG at his side and his face obstructed by his skull mask. "Jesus Christ, Ryan! Take that thing off." She demanded, placing a hand over her heart. He sighed and ripped the mask off, sending his blonde hair flying over his face and sticking to his face paint. He didn't bother fixing it.

"Gavin's missing. Probably kidnapped. I need you and Matt to get me some info. If I get to him and he's dead, you two will follow." He threatened, blue eyes cutting through the darkness of her living room. "Got it, got it! God, you're terrifying." She muttered, setting her cat down before grabbing her phone. Seeing her typing away filled him with a sense of satisfaction. He planted himself on her sofa and waited.  
::  
She and Matt had sent him to two different sources of information (whom he had to torture) before sunup. The information spelled out in front of him made his stomach churn. All of it, every last bit, pointed towards FakeHaus, another crew in Los Santos. A crew he previously thought were their friends.

Fury bubbling underneath his skin, he made his way back to the penthouse.  
::

He tossed Ray's sniper at the younger man. "FakeHaus has him." Ryan muttered, grabbing Geoff's pistols before handing them to the mustachioed man. "Whoa, hold on. What do you mean, FakeHaus has them?" Geoff asked, gripping the guns forced into his hands. "I mean, those two timing asshats took Gavin. I spent the night with Lindsey and Matt gathering info and torturing people. Look at me!" Ryan gestured to the bags under his eyes, his face pain faded and running, and the blood staining his clothes. Jack rubbed her eyes heavily. "God, man. I didn't think they'd do that to us." "Well, they did. It's not that hard to believe. Have you fucking _met_  them?" Michael asked, grabbing his assault rifle after shrugging on his own leather jacket.

"C'mon, let's go get our hacker back."  
::  
The FakeHaus base was an abandoned barn out in the Blaine County sticks. When the crew pulled up, all of the cars that were usually outside the barn were missing, leaving tire tracks gouged deep into the dirt. "They knew we were coming." Geoff said, looking at the tracks from where he stood clinging onto the side of the Roosevelt. Michael snorted. "Of course they knew, they're not _that_  fuckingdumb." He griped, throwing his weight away from the frame of the car. By the time the others had exited the car, Michael was standing at the door to the barn, fingers clenching and unclenching around the gun in his hand.

Ryan pushed the doors open, completely ignoring Jack's whisper-yelled pleads not to.

The main room of the barn was completely deserted. Despite it not acting as a barn for years, stray straw still covered the floor in uneven patches. There was a gun sitting on the sofa, a knife standing on its tip in the wooden coffee table. Several more were stuck by the blade in the wall, where a bull's-eye was crudely painted.

Ryan moved through the room, on a mission towards the door set into the worn dirt floor. He knew that beneath it was the area where FakeHaus kept prisoners-he'd helped them get info from some uncooperative 'guests'. He flung it open, sending barely settled dust and straw into the air. He started down the ladder, only making it about 3 rungs down before turning back to his crew. "You guys comin', or what?"  
::  
Ryan didn't bother being quiet. After all, they knew they were coming. Might as well tell them they were there, right?

When he entered the room, the first thing he saw was Gavin. It was Gavin, tied to a chair, blood pouring from his nose and crusting around his split lip. The collar of his shirt was half popped and torn, dirt and bleach staining his stupidly expensive jeans. He was missing a shoe.

The next thing he noticed was the seven guns pointed at him, one of which was right in his face.

He smiled. He should've seen this coming. Spoole and Peake were flanking Gavin. Elyse and James were one exit, and Joel and Lawrence marked the other. Bruce and Adam were near the entrance to the room, Bruce farther back. Adam had the audacity to push the silencer of his pistol underneath Ryan's chin. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Shut up, Haywood." Adam said, pressing his gun forwards. A long moment of silence fell over the group. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and the poison in their gazes was palpable.

It was Michael who fired the first shot.

It hit Adam in the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground. His pistol went flying from his hand. That's when the fire fight started.

Somewhere in the crossfire, a bullet hit Ryan. Well, _several_ bullets.

One minute he was firing bullet after bullet at Elyse and the next he was sprawled on the floor staring at a concerned Jack. His chest hurt so much that he couldn't feel it anymore. Then again, maybe that was the blood loss talking. "Shit! Ryan? Ryan! Come on buddy, stay with me!" He was hearing Jack from underwater. With those words swimming in his ears, everything went dark.

::

He was fine.

He didn't know how, but he was fine. The last thing he remembered was pain and the warm, sticky, all too familiar sensation of his blood seeping onto his skin. Now, he's laying on the ground, listening to the screaming and firing going on around him. Heck, even the pain from the scar on his shoulder was gone. It was like every injury he'd ever had was healed. He grabbed his gun and began firing again, aiming to injure but not kill.

After a while, he and Spoole were the only two left standing.

After a second of careful maneuvering, they were arm's distance from each other. Ryan carefully placed the muzzle of his SMG against the curve of Spoole's neck. The smaller man smirked, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his face. In the midst of the chaos and the distraction, Geoff and Michael were able to get Gavin free of his binds. "That gun's mighty big. Compensating for anything?" Spoole muttered, raising a thin eyebrow.

Ryan pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

Ryan stepped back in shock. His gun had jammed at the last second. He was really going to do it.

He was going to shoot his friend in the neck.

Something about what was happening brought him into the situation, leaving him unable to detach himself from it like he usually did. It made him think. Was he willing to kill someone he cared about for his crew? Was he willing to kill another member of his crew if it came down to it? He had always been The Vagabond, a heartless assassin able to do any job placed in front of him as long as he had a reason and a payment.

"FREEZE!"

The shout caught him off guard and he stumbled as Spoole pushed past him. The next thing he knew, a cold pair of handcuffs were closed uncomfortably tight around his wrists and a LSPD cop was shoving him upstairs and into a cop car. The rest of his crew and the Roosevelt were gone.  
::  
Ryan forgot just how much he hated holding cells. The only good thing about Los Santos was that because of the amount of  criminals in the city the jails and prisons were always full. He was just falling asleep when a loud "Psst!" woke him up.

He opened his eyes into a glare, fully ready to physically attack whoever woke him up. When he saw that it was Kerry, his face softened. "You and Chris working on bustin' me out of here?" He mumbled, pushing the words out of the edge of his mouth. Kerry forced his face into a grimace as another officer walked by. "You know me so well. You'll be back home by sundown." He murmured, shooting Ryan a wink.  
::  
"It's good to be home." Ryan said, sighing in relief as he shrugged off his jacket. He tossed it on Michael's where it was sitting on the sofa back, his skull mask joining it. "Ryan!" The squawk  came from behind Ryan. Before he could respond, a weight crashed into his back and took him down. He laughed as skinny arms snaked around his waist. "Hey Gav." He chuckled as the Brit nuzzled into his neck. "Lovely Ryan." He cooed.

It felt good to be home.


End file.
